


Ohana means pack, and Pack means building a garage

by hrkkitulikijehuar



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pack Building, Pack Feels, bed sharing, but also grief, dealing with Allison's death, derek is better at pack building as a beta, ish, it doesn't have to be sterek at all if that is not your thing, peter is not in this...he's...over there somewhere..., post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrkkitulikijehuar/pseuds/hrkkitulikijehuar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...So I was thinking of building a garage. That's something new, that's...progress but I can still think about what the right thing for the house is. And I can kind of trial run some of the things I'll have to learn. So, if you ever need something to do with your hands, you're welcome to come by and I'll put you to work.”</p><p>Stiles has turned slightly, surprise on his features. “You'd trust me with power tools?”</p><p>I trusted you with a bone saw. “I was thinking more painting and sanding for you.”</p><p>OR</p><p>In the wake of Allison's death and the end of the nogitsune, Scott's pack is broken. Derek doesn't know how to fix it but he's ready to step up and do what he can for everyone, including Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ohana means pack, and Pack means building a garage

**Author's Note:**

> (I wrote this in between the last two episodes so the whole Kate's back thing...hasn't happened yet, shh, just go with it and that's also why no one mentions Aiden dying...)
> 
> [Jay](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Recalcitrant_Slytherin_Slut/pseuds/Recalcitrant_Slytherin_Slut) beta'd and made me publish this because the fandom is sad and need healing as much as the characters. This is me using fic to give them all hugs because ugh.

    “I don't know how you do it.” Stiles says, staring out at the horizon like there is something to look at.

    Derek knows, in general, what he means but waits for him to keep going. It takes awhile, which is not surprising, not really. If Stiles wasn't acting affected it would troubling.

    “Your life has been hell.” Stiles finally says. “I mean absolute hell. Everything, you just...you never catch a break, do you? What you've seen, what you've done, just, everything. And like, no, I don't think you're a model for healthy coping or anything, and I think half of your choices have been stupid, but you're still here.”

    Stiles draws a shaky breath, “And I don't...”

    _'_ _think I can do this'_ hangs unsaid. Derek takes his time in replying, trying to get it right because this is important. A deep pain settles in his chest, and he can imagine his wolf twisting and whining, trying to run away from this thing that hurts.

    “I don't know either.” he finally says, because it's the truth. He's worried it's because he's a werewolf. That somehow, the drive to survive is stronger in him, and that's how he's managed not to destroy himself. But that's wrong, he knows it, but still...Stiles is only human.

    _'You're strong.'_ He wants to say. _'You could have run screaming from the beginning, or any time after. You were going to do it, back in the beginning with the bone saw. You didn't think you could, but you would have. That's....that's not nothing, and maybe it feels like it is now because of everything else, but...from the start you've been strong.'_

    But he doesn't dare. Stiles didn't come to him for that because that's not what Derek does. Maybe they'll get there someday, maybe Derek will know what to say to people, how to say the things that matter without feeling weak and pathetic, and maybe Stiles will come to him when he needs to be reminded of how strong he really is. But that's not how things stand now.

    “I've been thinking about a lot of things since I came back.” Derek says instead. “I don't know how I feel about the house. Sometimes I want to tear it down completely. Sometimes I want to rebuild it, saving as much of it as I can. Sometimes I want to leave it as it is, but build a new house somewhere else on the property. But I'm pretty sure I'm ready to do something about it. So I was thinking of building a garage. That's something new, that's...progress but I can still think about what the right thing for the house is. And I can kind of trial run some of the things I'll have to learn. So, if you ever need something to do with your hands, you're welcome to come by and I'll put you to work.”

    Stiles has turned slightly, surprise on his features.

    “You'd trust me with power tools?”

 _I trusted you with a bone saw._ “I was thinking more painting and sanding for you.”

    Stiles snorts.

    “But we'll see.” Derek says, low and quiet.

–

    In the end, Derek decides to go to the Sheriff. He had thought that he and Laura after the fire had been the most broken a pack could be: two grief stricken orphans, one newly come into alpha powers, and the other knowing he caused the entire tragedy. But he's begun to realize that it wasn't true. They were grieving, they were overwhelmed and lost, but they weren't broken as a pack. Scott's pack is broken now, and what Stiles needs is pack. What they all need is pack. But the nogitsune was very good at what it did, because the chaos, strife, and pain doesn't end now that it's dead. It goes on and on.

    “I was wondering if I could talk to you.” Derek starts. The Sheriff regards him wearily and warily.

    “Please, please tell me you are not here because of some new monster or...”

    “No. No, although...” And Derek shifts his shoulders, because this is an unfortunate truth. “The Nemeton is still calling out as far as I know, which means that there will be trouble again sooner or later.”

    “I know.” The Sheriff rubs his face absently. “I don't think these kids can handle anything else.”

    “I don't either. That's why I'm here.”

    The Sheriff gestures to a chair. Derek sits and begins:

    “When I was growing up, our pack was strong. It wasn't just our numbers, it was...the way we fit together. We had humans and werewolves, and the humans didn't make us weaker, but stronger. My mother was the alpha, and she was good at it, but my father is who the human kids went to when they scraped their knees, or fell out of trees. Peter was who you went to when you'd done something stupid and didn't want to tell your parents. Half the time he helped you fix your mess and never said a word, and the other half he convinced you to confess in the end to your parents but he, and I know this sounds crazy now, but he always made sure you learned your lesson. His wife was who Laura went to with boy trouble, and my cousin Neal was the one who always organized activities, and games, and the occasional prank. Everyone had...a role, nothing official or set in stone, but there was always someone to go to for whatever you needed, whether it was Gran and her cookies when you needed cheering up, or Aunt Sarah in her library when you needed quiet, or homework help.”

    The Sheriff is watching him, interested, but puzzled. “I'm pretty sure we're as far from that as we can get.”

    “Exactly.” Derek replies bluntly. “This pack is broken, and I don't know how to fix it, but more of them are going to die if we don't.”

    The Sheriff leans back, exhaling. Stiles would probably be furious, he doesn't want his dad to worry, but it's the truth and Derek couldn't think of anyone else for this conversation.

    “What I do know,” Derek continues, “Is that thus far, in addition to not trusting me, they've tended to view me as the angry silent one, and it's given me an idea for my role in this pack.”

    The Sheriff raises an eyebrow.

    “I'm going to build a garage a ways from the old house. They're going to need to talk, and they're going to need support from their families, but sometimes they may need some space, and someone who isn't trying to make them talk about it. Doing something constructive might also help. Any of them can come out, work with their hands, take a break from talking, and ultimately build something together. I can be who they go to when they don't want to talk anymore, but want to do something. I can keep them busy.”

    The Sheriff considers for awhile. “They're used to handling all of this on their own, but maybe it's time for the adults to step in.”

    “I think so. And I think you should coordinate it.”

    “I was wondering why you came to me with this.”

    “Like I said, I'm the angry silent one. Not really my area. Besides, you're like Stiles, neutral and in the middle of everything.”

       Just before Derek reaches the door, the Sheriff calls after him,

    “Just so we're clear, this open invitation, does it include Chris Argent?”

    Derek's mouth is open to refuse, but then his brain catches up to his instincts and he finds himself saying:

    “Of course.”

    He walks out in wonder.

–

    Stiles turns up first, and Derek isn't surprised. He brings Kira though, and that does throw Derek. She gives him that fearful look, but raises her chin a little and asks what she can do. Derek had forgotten about her in all honesty

His plans had started with Stiles and included Scott, and Isaac, then Lydia. But Kira...he wasn't sure about how she fit into things. Pack was usually wolves, sometimes wolves and humans, and occasionally wolves, humans, and the odd other. But foxes didn't run with wolves.

    However, he teaches them how to frame a section of wall, and doesn't say anything. If Stiles brought her, she belonged. And she was good at measurements, precision, and had nimble fingers. She was a good counterpoint to Stiles who flailed, couldn't focus on anything long enough to remember measurements, and did best with simple, repetitive tasks, that he could do on autopilot, while his mind wandered.

    Isaac comes a day later, alone. He seems to cycle through moods, or down right personalities, every few minutes. Derek finds himself grateful he's prepared himself to be steady and consistent when dealing with the wounded teens. But the thing is, Isaac doesn't need quite the same thing Stiles needs. It makes sense, Derek supposes, that in fact it wasn't just one member of a pack knowing who to go to for a specific need, but also that pack member who had been sought out, had to also understand the different reasons why someone might come to them, and adapt to the person and the situation. Peter had always known when you needed to be reminded why what you did was wrong, and when you already knew and just needed help figuring out what to do next.

    In the end, he let's Isaac fight him, because construction isn't really the right outlet for werewolf rage. And grief includes rage, but Isaac has a lot more than that, he's a pot that's been boiling over too long, and is going to boil dry and burn up if something doesn't change. They end up bloody, panting, and with Isaac shaking and sobbing. Derek feels like he's actually holding him together rather than awkwardly gripping his shoulders.

    They don't talk. That's the rule. But Derek feels Isaac has gotten to a place where he can amend it,

    “Anytime you want to talk to me, you can.” He growls, low.

    He'd tell the others that, but he knows it wouldn't go down well. It would make Stiles skittish. Scott would scoff, he thinks, or just stare. But he hopes, eventually, he can amend his roles to include being the one who won't pressure you to talk, but who will listen and not judge. Because these aren't children, not any more, and they need to be able to become themselves—besides, Derek is in no position to judge anyone, and he knows it. But most importantly, they know it, or they will, he hopes. He doesn't want to hold their hands, or sooth their egos, or broken hearts, he doesn't want to talk about his feelings or his past. He's not interested in offering up pieces of himself to try to fill their holes. But he does want to help, because for better or worse, this is his pack, and Beacon Hills is his home.

    Isaac doesn't say anything, he just heaves out these cries of absolute agony. He's not just grieving for Allison, he's grieving for himself, everything he lost, for the family he should have had but didn't, for Erica and Boyd, for Scott who is hurting too, and how that  makes Isaac feel guilty for his pain, and every moment he had with Allison. Derek just lets him, lets Isaac cling to him when he collapses in on himself.

–

    Scott still doesn't come, but Chris does, and so do Kira and Stiles. When Derek told the Sheriff that Chris was welcome, he didn't know what to expect. The question might have just been about where Derek stood in regard to Argent, and not about any ideas the Sheriff had on how Chris needed to cope. But he's here, and he looks both lost and determined, and Derek knows exactly what to do. He hands the man the plans, and points to some lumber. Chris didn't come to talk or fight, he came to do get out of the house and do something before he gave in to his demons.

    Derek has no idea why Kira comes. It's not that the whole thing didn't affect her, it did. She may not have been close with Allison but she knew her, and it was her mother that originally summoned the oni and the nogitsune. She'd had some sort of connection with Scott and now he's...whatever it is that he's doing. Derek hasn't asked. It's not his job to run after Scott, and Scott is the last person who'd respond well to it. But Derek only knows Kira was new to her powers and her identity when everything happened, so perhaps she's just staying near people who know what she is, perhaps she's a little lost and alone. She’d come with Stiles both times, but they don't talk. He has no idea what their relationship is.

    When they leave though, Kira walks up to Derek, and, eyes wide, she says:

    “Look, I know you're like thirty or whatever, and you'll probably think this is the stupidest thing any of us has ever done, but, here.” She thrusts a flash drive into his hands. “Just watch it, ok? All the way through to the end. Just...please.”

    And she slides away, catching up to Stiles, leaving Derek thoroughly confused.

    And he’s not _thirty_.

    He doesn't know what to expect. Perhaps some files on kitsune or other creatures? Something to do with her mother's past? But no, it turns out to be a movie. An animated Disney movie.

    It's Lilo and Stitch.

    He does what Kira asked, more out of shock than anything else, wondering if perhaps it's not what it seems, that there's something hidden part way through or...something.

    Nothing, just the movie.

    It takes him awhile to get it, but in his defense, Kira making him watch Lilo and Stitch is one of the weirdest things that has ever happened to him. And he's a fucking werewolf.

    Kira wants to sit at the grown-up table.

–

    Things are going well, the garage is nearly half done, which is terrifying, because then Derek is going to have to decide what to do about the house. The place he selected for the garage is near enough that it could be used with the original house if he wanted, but also close to another site that would be ideal if he decided to construct a new one. The possibility of doing nothing is so seductive though, to just finish the garage and keep ignoring the decision. But he can't because the garage is half done and Scott still hasn't shown up.

    Lydia does though. She looks at the garage, clearly a building now, walls, floor, ceiling all present if not finished. She looks at him,

    “Here's the thing, I'm really not a woodshop kind of girl.” She says.

    “No problem.” He replies, and takes her over to the table with the plans on it. He has a collection of paint colors, and tells her to work on the interior stuff. It's a garage, but those need more than just walls, they need shelves and other things as well. It can still look nice and be organized.

    “Nice, but manly?” She asks, amused.

    “Please.” He nods. She smirks and starts brainstorming.

    Lydia is not going to break down crying on him, she doesn't need to fight him, she's never going to confide in him, but he knows she's devastated. Problem is, where he knew what Isaac needed, and has some ideas on what Stiles and Scott need, Lydia is a mystery to him. All he can offer is the garage.

    Stiles is floundering today. He can't settle on anything, and looks like he hasn't slept in a week. He probably hasn't, knowing Stiles. It might be time to actually do something about him. Isaac is patient with Stiles today, which is a blessing. It's not that one fight and sob session has fixed Isaac, but he's a bit more level than he had been. Derek thinks there's something there, someday, some kind of friendship if both Isaac and Stiles get through their current pain. And Scott. Even if he weren't the alpha, Scott would be the key to this. Because Isaac has the capacity to be as loyal to Scott as Stiles is, perhaps, in some ways, more so. And Stiles will respect that. But that's too far down the road to be counted on.

    Instead, after Lydia leaves Derek pages of notes and drawings, and Isaac nods at Derek like he knows what's going to happen, Derek scoops Stiles up and throws him over his shoulder.

    “What the hell!” Stiles cries, struggling. “Have you lost your mind?”

    “Absolutely.” Derek replies. “And it's only going to get worse, so you may as well relax.”

    “That made no sense. Put me down.”

    “Alright,” Derek dumps Stiles into his car. “We're going to the loft.”

    “I need to go home, Derek.”

    “I'll call your father when we get there.”

    “You'll call my dad. _You_ will. And say what, that you're kidnapping me?”

    “Yes.”

    “Are you going to ask for ransom?”

    “I don't think so.”

    “What the hell, Derek.” Stiles hisses.

    “Movie night.” Derek shrugs. “Sleep over.”

    “Oh my god! You weren't kidding, you have lost your mind.”

    “Told you.” Derek chuckles for affect.

    Stiles looks terrified, though not in the way Derek has usually seen him. Usually when Stiles is terrified, it's true, life-or-death fear. But this, this is the kind of terrified a kid gets when his friends are about to do something ridiculous. It's not a bad look on Stiles.

–

    “My dad just...said ok.” Stiles blinks.

    Derek just got off the phone with the Sheriff, telling him that Stiles would be spending the night. He'd use one of the two code words the Sheriff had worked out for when the adults needed to discuss the situation with the traumatized teens. One of them meant 'I'm doing my pack job, and everything is more or less ok' and the other meant 'This is serious, and I'll fill you in once I've handled the immediate crisis'. Derek had used the first code just now, and the second when he'd called Melissa about Isaac while the he'd been healing after he'd taken out his rage on Derek.

    “Shut up and eat your pizza.” Derek replies to Stiles’ look of astonishment.

    Derek plugs the flash drive into the laptop and queues up the movie.

    “Holy mother of god and all her wacky nephews.” Stiles' eyes nearly pop out of his head when he sees the Disney logo. “We're watching Lilo and Stitch.”

    “I'm not going to comment on how you knew that so fast.” Derek says.

    “You aren't Derek, are you? You're an imposter. Some kind of...I don't know, shapeshifter, doppelganger, fairy in glamor...mhhph.”

    Derek shoves popcorn into Stiles' mouth.

    “Shut up and watch.”

    Stiles nearly chokes on the popcorn, but he stays quiet. For a minute.

    “Seriously dude, I'm freaking out. Explain.”

    “Kira gave it to me.”

    “That is the opposite of an explanation.”

    “Watch the movie Stiles, and then I'll explain.”

    “You'd better.” Stiles huffs, returning to his pizza.

    This sort of thing will only work on Stiles. If Derek tried to pick up and manhandle Scott into watching a movie, he can't even imagine how horribly that would go. The same with Isaac, or worse, Lydia. But Stiles sort of expects it because that's how he and Derek roll.

    Halfway through Stiles groans:

    “Oh my god, I get it now. Our pack is small and broken, but still good? Is that what this is? Wait, does that make me Lilo or Nani? Are you Stitch? Oh I am so Nani, and Lydia is David—only it's backwards, and Scott is Lilo but no, because you're Stitch, and you and Scott are no where near that level of friends, so...mrrrlf.”

    Derek shoves more popcorn in Stiles' face.

    “You're Stitch, Stiles.” he says. “Which I think makes Scott Jumba, and Isaac Plinkly.”

    “You do realize that makes you Lilo, right?”

    “It's not perfect. But that's not the point, anyway.”

    “It's not? This isn't about how ohana means pack, and pack means nobody gets left behind or forgotten?”

    “Not really. That's sort of extra.”

    Stiles hmms vaguely and goes back to watching.

–

    Derek leaves Stiles on the couch after confiscating his phone and laptop and dropping an extra blanket on his head. Stiles whines about it, about how bored he'll be since he doesn't sleep, and Derek tells him to count sheep. Stiles then tests his boundaries by saying he'll have nightmares if he sleeps, and tries to make Derek feel guilty. Derek tosses him a pocket dictionary and tells him that it's the most stimulating thing he's allowed to do if he won't sleep. Stiles enjoys muttering abuse under his breath, knowing full well Derek can hear him.

    Stiles does have nightmares, Derek knows. He also has panic attacks, and times when he's sure he's not actually awake, and times when he thinks the nogitsune isn't really gone. He has episodes where he wants that to be true, because then Allison's death is a trick. Derek hasn't asked the Sheriff about it much, but Stiles' father has said some things freely. Stiles sometimes wakes up screaming that it's his fault. He remembers everything the nogitsune did while inside him. He's actually a total mess, and no one blames him, least of all his father.

    But the truth is that the adults are doing their best, and it's not working.

    So what Derek expects to happen is for Stiles to either not sleep at all, or to wake him screaming in the night and hopefully get him to say something real. But the opposite happens.

   

“Derek? Derek, hey, come on, wake up...Derek...whoa!”

    Stiles is backing up, out of the reach of Derek's claws, because he's shifted in the moment he became awake. He's breathing hard, a scream dying on his lips, but Stiles just looks concerned despite almost getting mauled by Derek.

    Stiles sits down on the bed frowning at him. Derek looks away, getting himself under control and fully human. This is not how this is supposed to be. Stiles scoots closer and gingerly reaches out to touch Derek's arm.

    “Hey.” he says. “Isaac does this thing...at first I thought it was creepy and weird but...it helps.”

    Derek doesn't answer, he's still trying to get the flames out of his eyes, he can see them dancing still. Stiles settles next to Derek and puts his arm around him, leaning in to him.

    “Isaac usually flinches when people touch him, so I assumed he didn't like it, but I think he's actually secretly a cuddler. He pretends he's doing it to help me out, calm my sympathetic nervous system or whatever, but I think he just really craves contact, you know?”

    And Stiles takes a deep breath and just hugs Derek. Derek doesn't move, he can't. But having Stiles' pressed close does help. Suddenly Derek understands something important.

    “It's different just being touched and being touched by someone you actually trust.” He says, voice raw. “Isaac has known a lot of pain and betrayal, but...” And Derek is not really talking about Isaac.

    “He's really a puppy isn't he?” Stiles says against Derek's shoulder. Derek finally moves, pulling Stiles along so they're more comfortable, more nestled.

    “He's a wolf, Stiles.” Derek rumbles.

    “Nah,” and Derek can hear the smile in his voice. “ _You're_ a wolf.”

    “What does that make Scott?” Derek asks, knowing it's a risk.

    “Scott.” Stiles sighs. “Scott is...losing it.”

    It's a terrible admission because Stiles is losing it, has been since the Nemeton, and nothing after has done anything but push him closer to the edge. But Scott is falling off an entirely different cliff, and the pure and simple truth is that Scott has to rescue Stiles, and Stiles has to rescue Scott. It's what they do.

    “It's not your fault.” Derek says, wondering how much he's going to get away with here.

    “It's not your fault.” Stiles bites back. “So don't you dare. Not until you've figured out how to let go yourself. Frankly you don't paint an optimistic picture for us, you know, since it happened years ago and you're still carrying it all around. I have blood on my hands Derek! I....I was in there, and it played me, and it used me, and people died. Allison died.”

    Stiles is hysterical now, but the thing is, he doesn't let go. He's still got his arms around Derek, and Derek is glad because Stiles tone makes him want to fight back and point out that Derek has more blood on his hands, and he's not meant to paint them any pictures, and what the hell is this conversation even about? But Stiles is still holding him, and he's still holding Stiles.

    And so instead of fighting, Derek finally tells Stiles how strong he is. And he finishes it with,

    “Allison was strong too, so strong, and so brave, and she still died. Is it her fault for not being stronger? Is she to blame for all this pain because if she'd just been stronger, or faster she would have lived? No. It doesn't work like that. It's not her fault. And if it's not her fault for not being stronger, then maybe you're right and it's not mine either. But I know it's not hers, or yours Stiles. You both did everything you could do.”

    Stiles chokes out a sob and burrows his face against Derek's neck, and it's the same as it was with Isaac, Stiles isn't suddenly going to start getting eight hours of sleep, or smile all the way to his eyes, but he's given up just a tiny piece of his pain, and managed to do it while drawing out some of Derek's. Because what Derek said about Allison was true. And he isn't surrendering all his guilt, he had made choices, he had trusted wrongly, and he knew, he absolutely knew that Paige, his family, his failed pack--he bore part of that blame. But only part. He might be able to believe it was only partly his fault. That was going to have to be enough for now.

–

    Waking up with Stiles draped over him like a blanket is oddly comforting. The best part is that Stiles is sleeping. His heart rate is calm, his breathing relaxed, and while it's nothing toward what he's missed, it's good for him, and might help him get through the next week, and that's a victory because that's the game they're playing. Each day is a mountain, and every week a continent. But Stiles made it through a night. The down side is that it's not really comfortable, Stiles' is a lumpy, heavy, blanket with bones, and Derek has to use the bathroom. But he waits as long as he can before shoving Stiles' off.

    “Aaaghhhh.” Stiles says rolling off the bed.

    “Good morning,” Derek replies and stretches.

    “What was the point of all this again? You never did explain.”

    “For you to get some sleep.” Derek shrugs. “You looked half dead, which means you weren't sleeping at your house, so I thought maybe a change of environment might help.”

    “O....k....” Stiles says doubtfully. “And the movie?”

    “It's cute.”

    “Who the hell are you really? And what have you done with Derek Hale?”

    “It worked.” Derek points out. “You needed a soothing, childhood movie, and a change of scenery.”

    “Dude, you do know why I slept, right?”

    Derek may have an idea, but he's not about to say anything. After a long pause Stiles realizes that he can't actually say it either. Snuggling and talking about their feelings is not what Stiles and Derek do. Instead Stiles says:

    “Aaaagh.” And flops on the bed. Derek heads of to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen. He makes eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast, and makes Stiles eat some of everything with a glass of orange juice.

    “You looked half dead.” he reiterates when Stiles raises an eyebrow at his heaping plate.

–

    “It's been making me nervous.” Scott explains, kicking at a leaf. “You haven't turned up even once to tell me I was doing a crappy job as an alpha.”

    “Well,” Derek muses, “I'm not a complete bastard. Maybe only...three-quarters? You can ask Stiles, I've been working on it.”

    Scott gapes.

    “Now get over here and help paint.” Derek points to where Kira and Stiles are armed with brushes and rollers, and Chris is on a ladder cutting in around the ceiling while Lydia directs and corrects technique. The Sheriff is putting up a basketball hoop outside, and Melissa and Isaac are grilling hot dogs and hamburgers.   

    It's not a happy gathering. It's two men who've lost their entire families, two single parents who can't protect their children, four teenagers who've been through hell and lost someone dear, and a girl who's still not sure she can trust her parents or has a place in this strange, sad pack. And Derek thinks it's not a happy garage, built with pain and misery next to a burned out shell of a house that's haunted by smoke, and the absent laughter of children.

    And that's when Derek knows what he's going to do. He's going to build the new house over on the other side of the garage, because he's not ready to deal with the old house. And that's ok, it can stay. It keep it's ghosts, and it's pain, and stay with him until he's ready to give it up, because he isn't yet. And no one else building the garage is ready to let go of their guilt and pain yet either. He hopes they'll get there more quickly than he is, but they've built something together now, and maybe it's just a garage and not a home, and maybe Scott still has a hell of a lot to learn, and maybe not everyone knows yet what role they'll have in the pack, or how it's going to manage to survive the next crisis, but, they've made it through the night, they've made it through the week, and they're strong enough to keep trying.


End file.
